


The Scars on My Mind are on Replay

by skullourful



Category: Lost
Genre: Claire swears like a truckie, F/M, Shameless Smut, but she's 19, conmama, flashback AU, gothie Claire is the best, set in 1999, sharing their past trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:06:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25281337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skullourful/pseuds/skullourful
Summary: Claire is recovering from her car accident, trying to pick up the shattered pieces of her life when she has a chance meeting with Sawyer, who is in Sydney under mysterious circumstances.
Relationships: James "Sawyer" Ford/Claire Littleton
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	1. Don't Tell Pete

**Author's Note:**

> First of all: yes, it is based in 1999 but I've aged Claire up to 19, so everything is legal, but yes there is an age-gap 'coz it's my kryptonite and I'm not gonna apologise for that.   
> This happens directly after Claire and her mum's car accident, including Christian appearing in her life for the first time. I've pushed up Sawyer's trip to Sydney to kill Frank to put him in Claire's life at her angstiest stage.
> 
> Can you name the movie one of Claire's rats is named after? It's gonna come into play later...
> 
> I'm allowed to make fun of Western Sydney 'coz I used to work in Mt. Druitt.

“This is bullshit, just ignore the expiry date, this ID proves I’m nineteen.” Claire clung to the plastic card with white-knuckled desperation, as if it were a life preserver.

This should have been the easiest part of her day; the tobacconist had never posed any issues in the year she had been working in this area. She needed the relief of a cigarette with everything she had in her. But the stone-faced clerk didn’t care about this, he just stared back at her, unbothered by how much of her lunch break this pointless interaction was wasting.

It was her first day back at work since the car accident and her ability to act like everything was fine was fading. Without a smoke she wasn’t sure she could stomach the pity-filled glances from her co-workers for the remainder of her shift.

It was possible her manager had been right when he’d questioned if this were too early for her to return to the job. But she couldn’t just sit around and wait for her mum to wake up from the coma.

She also needed the money, so she’d come up with a story of falling down the stairs when customers asked how she’d hurt her arm and she thought this, along with her stubbornness, would get her through the day.

“I’m sorry Miss, but that date makes the whole card invalid and legally I can’t sell to you. We don’t really have the spare change to cop a fine for selling to someone without ID.”

She refused to put the card away. It had expired less than a month ago. “Can you get me someone else that works here, like the manager? Yeah, go back there and get me Pete because he’ll sell to me, he knows me, okay?”

“I’m afraid that I’m the only person here today, so if you wouldn’t mind stepping-…”

“Actually, I would mind, a lot.”

“Hey Rebel Rebel, do you got the money for your pack?”

She turned to face the only other person in the store, a man she had not noticed before. Her fight began to crumble and guilt at holding this patron up seeped in. She awkwardly shuffled to the side and scolded herself for not simply asking Cassie for a smoke (if only she wasn’t so obsessed with not becoming a charity case).

“Yeah.”

The tall guy stepped up to the counter. He didn’t need to prove he was of age, inarguably a fully grown man with the beginnings of a beard. But he held up his passport all the same. “Brilliant, what’s your brand?”

“Winfelds.” She said, unfolding the colourful notes.

“Parliament Blues for me.” The clerk didn’t have any arguments against the authority of this man. “Don’t tell Pete, she seems like a bit of a troublemaker.”

She was fascinated by the stranger’s accent, it didn’t belong among the teeth-missing, syllable-dropping locals of Mount Druitt. He sounded American; she didn’t understand why someone from overseas would choose to vacation in this gutter of a suburb.

“Thanks.” She said to the stranger, not the clerk.

She would be disappointed if her work schedule synched up with his.

She fell into step with the American as they left the store, without meaning to. Her attention was on trying to find her lighter amongst the chaos of her handbag. She had stopped noticing the smell of his cologne as her feet worked on autopilot to take her to the exit of the Westfield.

“So how bad does the other guy look?”

She looked up at him. “Huh?”

He gestured to tan skin above his eyebrow. “Your battle wounds.”

“Oh, right.” She self-consciously touched her fingertips to the plaster on her forehead. “Uh, I wouldn’t know, the other guy was a truck, so…” She held her arm close to her side, not wanting to draw any attention to the cast that engulfed her wrist. “Let’s just say my car is never gonna see the road again.”

They stepped out into the harsh sunlight and she narrowed her eyes in response. She immediately placed the end of a cigarette between her lips, ready to light up and fade away for at least a little while.

“Thanks again, you literally saved my day.”

He was wearing a relaxed smile, which showed dimples in his cheeks. “Don’t mention it.”

She fumbled with her lighter more times than was usual. “I should be getting back to work.”

“Right, well I’ll see you ‘round Winfeld.”

She savoured each puff of smoke, her hands stopped trembling and she felt further away from the edge than before. She made her way toward the tattoo parlour, riding out the rest of her break in the shade alongside the building.

She took a few unenthusiastic bites of the sandwich she had packed. She thought back to the hospital and wondered when the last check-up on her mum had taken place.

When she returned inside, she gave the booking sheet another glance and was relieved to see the next hour of appointments weren’t with any of her regular clients. She would be piercing strangers and so could be anonymous, not the girl with the sad story.

*

Claire didn’t sleep much since the accident. At first it had been nightmares, waking up with her ears ringing from the vivid memory of that traumatizing, loud scene.

It hadn’t taken long for the anxiety to set in, her mind racing far quicker than she was used to. The exact opposite of her depressive states wherein she would feel too sluggish to move. When she was down like that, her brain would move slowly and everything was muted. She didn’t feel scared, she was just sad.

Anxiety was an entirely different game; one she had no practice with. Everything rushed and it left her breathless.

She had stopped being able to lay down and rest because it seemed lying her head down was a signal for the panic to take over. As she was drifting off to sleep, her grip on reality would slip and she would remember that hard hospital mattress.

In her terrified state she would fail to remember being let out of the hospital and her mind would swarm with alternate injuries. She would picture getting pinned in the car, having to be cut free. She could imagine and feel much worse than just a broken wrist, something far more difficult to heal from. She thought about her mum, flying through the windshield and she flew down paths of trying to figure out how that would feel.

That had been a rough month – on edge and waiting for something to happen.

She didn’t miss those fantasies. Now they had been replaced by a constant state of alertness, unable to switch her mind off. She was given an abundance of time to survey her current circumstances. She would sit back and marvel at how her entire world had been shoved off its axis.

She could clearly recall her life before the crash. But she had no idea how to get back to it.

Most nights she stayed on the couch, watching as the infomercials looped. Her pair of female rats would grow tired of her handling them, nipping at her until she returned them to their cage. Leeloo was always the first to show any signs of aggression but Sandy’s patience would wear out too.

If she were lucky, she would doze off for a few hours or maybe nap during the day. But this was never a guarantee.

Under the stars she was lighting up a cigarette, she hoped this would be her last of the night.

She had enjoyed only a couple of puffs when she heard her phone ringing. She froze, questioning if she had the courage to answer it at all. She hugged her knees tight to her chest, certain it couldn’t be good news, not after one in the morning.

Eventually she padded back into the apartment, heading for the kitchen. Could this be it, the call that let her know her mum was gone forever?

*

Cedars Tavern was only a few blocks away from Claire’s apartment, but she had largely avoided the pub. It definitely wasn’t where she wanted to be in the early hours of Monday morning. Something had made her come, despite how much she wanted to ignore the request of the older man.

She could smell the alcohol soaked into the carpet before pushing the door open. She stepped into the dimly lit room and immediately felt like she needed a shower. Unlike the bars she would visit with her friends, the atmosphere of this establishment was devoid of merriment. The music that was playing was of a slow tempo, the volume not loud enough to warrant raised voices. There weren’t any colourful music videos playing on the various TV screens positioned around the room, instead the only thing to watch was grainy footage of horse racing.

There weren’t many people in the pub at this time and so she quickly spotted the slightly rumpled greying hair she had been looking for. She hesitated, scratching her longest nail momentarily under the cast. Christian had his back to her and so she could leave without him ever seeing her. She could simply go home and ignore any further calls from him.

But she didn’t. She was too sensitive for her own good and she felt premature guilt over all of the things that could happen to him in a rough neighbourhood such as this.

He was sitting at the bar, hunched over in a little pool of light cast by an overhead, grimy light. She approached, unprepared to see his face.

“I told you to go home Christian.” She said.

He looked at her, his face so much gaunter than when they’d first met at the hospital. His eyes weren’t holding focus on her for long, but he smiled all the same. “You came, oh I’m so glad. Shit, I’m sorry, did I wake you up?”

“Don’t worry about it.” She said, sliding onto the stool next to his. “I don’t really do…”

She trailed off, her eyes finding a familiar face in the next taken seat down from him. “Hey, Parliament Blue.”

The man she had bumped into four days ago was magically in front of her again. This would have been a nice distraction, but she knew Christian was going to cause some sort of scene – he was an ass like that.

He gave her a nod of recognition, smiling. “Hey Winfeld Winnie.”

“Thanks for coming Claire.” Christian said before barely covering the noisy burp. “I didn’t-…”

She rolled her eyes; she didn’t want to think of how much money he had spent in this place tonight. “Yeah, yeah, save it, alright? What are you doing here? I thought you were staying in the Cross.”

“I was, err, am. But I was gonna come see you.”

“Well I guess it’s fate that you didn’t make it to my place and I’m not one to argue with fate. So, let’s just cut your losses and get you back to your hotel, okay?”

“I can’t really, you see I drove here and…” He took a deep drink from his schooner. “Hey, you could drive. It’s an automatic and…”

Her stomach dropped. “Drive? I was just in a car accident, you wanker.” She cringed away from the look of remorse on his face. “Look, just sit here and give me a sec’, I’ll call you a taxi.”

“Taxi? Oh no, no, no, can’t do that sweetheart, I haven’t got any money.”

She grit her teeth, unable to think of anything to say back. She could only feel repulsed as she looked at this man, certain she would never understand what her mum had seen in him.

She remembered how she had felt before meeting her father. She’d had so many wonderful fantasies of the man he could’ve been, before his fictional death. Christian was a nightmare, close to the top on her list of the worst things to ever happen to her.

“I’m sorry but it’s true, just ask your buddy Paliment Blue, he’s paid for my last two rounds.”

Parliament Blue shrugged a shoulder. “‘fraid so.”

She massaged her temple briefly. “No money.” She didn’t need to check her wallet to know she didn’t have enough money for a taxi for him to get his hotel, with enough left over for her to get back home. “Of course you don’t have any fucking money.”

“Look, I hate to intrude but…” Parliament Blue said. “If it’s a case of money, I can pitch in to help. Someone needs to get this old guy home.”

“Old?”

She attempted to wave him away, an embarrassed blush rising in her cheeks. “No, you don’t need to do that. I’ll think of something, but thanks, but…”

Parliament Blue stood up and came toward her with the same calm energy as their last encounter. “Hey, I’m good at savin’ your day, remember?” He clapped Christian on the shoulder, a gesture of forced familiarity. “C’mon Doc, let’s get you in a cab away from this shit-stain excuse for a bar, huh?”

She let any potential refusals go, allowing herself to be taken in by how confident and in control he seemed. It was the first time she’d had anyone to help her with Christian.

She fell into step with the tall man, meanwhile Christian was taking slow, wobbly steps behind them. “I’m Claire by the way.”

“Sawyer.” He provided and held the door open for her before they had to give an extended pause as Christian caught up to them.

“Right and is that your first or last name?” She asked.

“Whichever you want it to be, cutie.”

“Claire, listen, I’m sorry I didn’t quite get to your house tonight but…” Christian had stepped up to stand beside her at the gutter as Sawyer gestured for the nearest taxi. She put a hand over her nose, Christian’s breath was strong enough to disorientate her for a second. “Let me make it up to you, I can buy you something.”

She chuckled bitterly to herself, there was nothing he could find in any store to repair the lifetime of damage he’d done to her. “I don’t need you to get me anything.”

“Sure, I can buy you something great. What do girls your age need? A new TV? No. A better fridge?”

“What she needs is for you to get in the cab, so how ‘bout you do that?” Sawyer said, holding the passenger door open. “Watch your head there champ.”

He and Claire got into the backseat as Christian gurgled a hotel name to the taxi driver. Claire was glad the driver didn’t need further directions because she wouldn’t have been able to help at all. This was the pricey part of Sydney, filled with hotels that had lobbies so nice she felt too poor to simply stand in.

“Sorry, he’s kinda…” She wasn’t sure which word to pick, there were too many applicable to him. “Difficult.”

“I mean it Claire, I’m gonna buy you something.” He said. “We can go shopping tomorrow. We’ll go see your mom and then I’ll take you out.”

She bit into her bottom lip and leant her head back, wishing she could disappear. She hated hearing him talk about her mum as he kept trying to insert himself into her family. Hearing it made her want to rush to her mum, to protect what the two of them had spent a lifetime building.

“How about a new car? I’d call that a rite of passage, a guy should get to buy his daughter a car. Doesn’t that sound-…”

Her eyes snapped open and she looked at the back of his head, all of the fury inside her finally spilling out. “Shut up, just shut up you goddamn man-shaped goon sack. I am _not_ your daughter.”

“Yes, yes you are.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Claire, yes, you are.”

“No.” The word came out of her with enough power to silence him. Despite her hands trembling, she kept talking, she wasn’t going to shut the floodgates yet. “I am not your daughter; I am your dirty little secret. So how about you go back to how it’s been for my whole life and just don’t talk to me, huh? Because that was suiting me just fine.”

An awkward hush encapsulated the cab and she turned to the window, her nerves buzzing. She had been waiting for weeks to give him a piece of her mind. Her adrenaline refused to let her relax, ready to shut him down another time.

She watched as some familiar buildings went by her window. She made a vow to herself that this would be the last time she bothered with him. She couldn’t keep wasting her time like this, letting him repeatedly disappoint her.

“I’ll fix that up for you.” Sawyer said as soon as the taxi came to a stop at the front of the hotel.

She watched Christian amble his way onto the sidewalk, not wanting to get too close. She folded her arms and headed for the glass doors; they didn’t budge. She looked into the bright lobby, where an impassive worker was sitting behind a desk, not noticing them.

“You got a card to open up this door?” Sawyer asked.

As the car drove away, leaving them alone on the street, Christian patted at his pockets. He was groaning a little and was yet to remember how to stand without swaying.

“I should have it…” He muttered to himself.

“C’mon Christian, this nice guy has better things to do with his night.”

“Actually, this is exactly what I was plannin’ on when I went out.”

Christian groaned again, louder than before and stumbled forward a couple of steps, closer to Sawyer. Then Claire heard a splash as Christian vomited, most of it landing on the concrete. But a couple of splashes landed upon Sawyer’s jeans and shirt.

“Better out than in.”

She spun around and mashed her finger into the largest button on the number pad, giving the man behind the desk a fright. “Oi, come get this bastard, he’s staying in your hotel.”

“Give ‘em Hell Winnie.”

The uniformed man came rushing down the room but hesitated before opening the door. He surveyed the three of them and she could only imagine what he thought they were up to. Slowly he reached out and pressed the button, the door slid open.

“Tell ‘im your room number.” Sawyer said to the distracted Christian.

He pulled a plastic card out of his pocket. “Key card.”

“How about that?” Sawyer said sarcastically.

She showed the worker an apologetic smile. “Sorry about him, he just, uh, soaked up a bit too much of the local flavours. He’ll be right, he just needs to sleep it off.”

Christian turned around to face them after crossing the threshold into the hotel. “I’m really sorry Claire, I’ll call you tomorrow.”

She immediately leapt upon this opportunity to leave, backing away. “Can’t fucking wait.”

“Sweet dreams Doc.”

She sighed out a shaky breath, then zipped open her bag. She pushed through the contents, trying to find a small plastic sleeve. When she found the crumpled pocket pack of tissues, she turned around and offered them to Sawyer. “Here, for that mess.”

“Thanks.”

“I’m really sorry about all of that, you kinda got caught in the crosshairs and it was pretty ugly. I screwed up your night there, that was shitty of me.”

“Don’t sweat it too much. I wasn’t exactly havin’ what you’d call a glamorous night.” He said, seemingly just pushing the murky liquid around on his jeans. “You’re outta tissues.”

“Shit, I’m sorry. I usually carry more but-…”

“You don’t gotta keep apologising to me babydoll.” He said and she relaxed her shoulders, reciprocating his smile. “How’re you gettin’ home?”

She tucked some of her black hair behind her ear as she looked around, attempting to gain her bearings. She didn’t recognise the names of any of the close-by cafes and the street names failed to provide her with any insights. “Oh, I can just get a taxi to the closest train station and find the right one to get me home. It shouldn’t be too difficult.”

“A train, at this time, on your own?”

“Yeah, it’s not a big deal. Besides it’s not like I have enough money for a taxi home.”

“Then I’ll pay.”

“Sawyer, I can’t ask you to do that.”

“Good thing I’ve already made my mind up, don’t need ya to ask.” He walked confidently past her, towards where a cab was conveniently already waiting. “You’ve got more tissues for me to clean up with, right? And you could make me something hot to drink, like a coffee? Could you manage that for me babydoll?”

She almost giggled at the pet name; it was having a weird, involuntary affect on her. She bit into her bottom lip, she had enough sense to pause and consider walking away. The option of getting a train was intimidating, but not impossible, something she had done a handful of times before.

Unable to keep the smile from her face, she reached the conclusion that there wasn’t any threat of stranger danger present. She began toward where he was waiting, figuring a cup of coffee was the least she could do after he’d rescued her from a truly terrible situation.


	2. The Broken Shower

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight TRIGGER WARNING: brief mention of self-harm.
> 
> Wow, I really didn't mean to have such a long break between posting chapters, but I have been struggling with mental health issues in regards to the current state of the world as well as getting distracted by working on an original manuscript. I have about seven chapters of this fic prepared so hopefully I'll be able to get on to a more regular posting schedule.
> 
> This is a fun chapter, bringing in the smut as Claire and Sawyer get to know each other better. It's only gonna get dirtier from here...

Claire’s adrenaline was still buzzing through her body, only slightly dampened during the fifty-minute taxi ride. It passed much quicker than the journey into Kings Cross.

Straight away Sawyer laid down a great rule that she didn’t have to apologise for anything else. This became easier when he offered up a different subject, where he was from. Alabama, a place she had never been to. He was willing to answer all of her questions, even the most mundane, like how it was having Christmas in winter.

“Alabama, so you’re like a cowboy, then?”

He scoffed. “Get outta here, I’ve never stepped foot on a farm in my life. But if you have to call me somethin’, I’ll take cowboy over hillbilly any day.”

“Hillbilly? That doesn’t really sound like a, uh, term of endearment.”

“That’s ‘cause it’s not Winnie. You see, back home if people heard my accent, they’d immediately think I’m a dumbass. But here, everyone wants to hear me say certain words. It makes me interesting, exotic.”

“Yeah, we kinda do that. I guess it’s ‘cause we’re kinda isolated down here, so we get really excited when other countries remember us. Or maybe we’re just really hospitable.”

“So, if I catch you mimicking me, you’re not making fun of me?” He asked.

“If I wanted to take the piss, I’d come up with something that demonstrates a bit more wit.”

“Hang on, you’re doing what with piss?”

She unbuckled her seat-belt and scooted forward in her seat. “Just here is perfect, thanks.”

The cab pulled to a gentle stop a couple of driveways down from her building. She looked at the fare that had added up, feeling embarrassed. But he didn’t hesitate in pulling his wallet out of his pocket.

She fished her keys out of the depths of her bag, more hesitant than before. There were so many possibilities swirling around in the air between them and she felt the weight of anticipation.

“It’s a bit of a mess in there.” She said once they reached the landing outside her door.

“So, I shouldn’t take my shoes off?” He teased.

She unlocked the door and immediately flipped on the closest light switch. She internally scolded herself for all of the dirty dishes and random items of clothing strewn about. But she hadn’t had anyone in the apartment for weeks.

“I might have something in the kitchen that’ll help get the puke out.” She said, walking straight through the living room into the narrow kitchen.

“Rats.” He said, still lingering by the front door. It appeared he was unable to move past the cage that was positioned against the wall.

“Yeah.”

“These are rats in a cage.”

She grabbed a grubby dishtowel, checking on him through the archway before holding it under the tap. “Uh-huh, and…?”

“Why are there rats in a cage?”

“They’re my babies.” She shrugged. “Just keep your fingers out from between those bars and they won’t hurt you.”

He looked from the curiously sniffing rodents to her. “You didn’t wanna get a normal pet, like a puppy or a bunny?”

“You be nice to them, you’re a guest in their house.” She said, crossing over to him and offering the damp cloth. “Here, I don’t know how much good it’ll do, but it should get a decent amount off. They’ll probably stink until you get them in the wash.”

“You got a washer-dryer?”

“Yeah, the dryer is downstairs in the communal laundry. But it’s decent.” She said.

He handed the cloth back to her and walked toward the kitchen. “Washer in here?”

“Yeah, but-…” She turned around in time to see him lifting his shirt up over his head. “What are you doing?”

He found the small laundry, an afterthought added to the end of the kitchen. He flipped the lid of the washing machine open and when he glanced over his shoulder, she quickly looked away. “You said yourself that a wash is the only way to get the stink out. Where’s the quick setting?”

“But jeans, that’ll take a couple of goes in the dryer and you don’t…” She shuffled over to the wall, scratching under her cast. “You don’t have any other clothes here.”

He turned to face her and it took some effort to keep her eyes from taking in the full sight of his bare torso. “Grow up Claire, I’ll keep my damn boxers on.” His hands went to the fly of his jeans and she blushed, doing everything she could to maintain eye-contact. “Damn cutie, it looks like he got some on your shirt too.”

She didn’t bother checking for herself, not even tilting her head down a little. Instead she raised her arms up, her heart fluttering. “You’re right.”

He stood in front of her and put his hands to the hem of her over-sized tee. He lifted it up, exposing her pale skin, causing it to raise into goosebumps. The faded black shirt was tossed aside, possibly in the direction of the washing machine. It didn’t really matter where it landed.

She wasn’t sure how long they stood like that, her looking into his eyes. He was close enough to touch her, yet he didn’t. She could feel his body heat and it was intoxicating, interrupting her ability to think straight.

She raised herself up to the tips of her toes and closed the gap between them. He wrapped an arm around her middle, pulling her body to his. He deepened the kiss with an intensity that robbed her of her breath.

She could feel herself being consumed by desire and she surrendered to it, savouring every sensation. His tongue glided into her mouth and she was glad for how securely he was holding her, otherwise her knees would have given out. She gripped to his broad shoulders as tingles radiated through her entire body.

He leaned back, breaking the kiss, but not before sucking thoroughly on her bottom lip. “Bedroom?”

“Yeah, it’s down the hall, uh…” She trailed off, taking a moment to come back into her logic. She ran a hand through her hair. “Listen, I… I’m not this kind of girl, you know, not usually.”

His thumbs were caressing the small of her back, just above the waistband of her leggings. “I ain’t here to judge you babydoll.” His teasing smile was easy to emulate. “Do you wanna show me what kind of girl you are?”

As they walked down the hall, she had plenty of time to assess the situation. But she didn’t want to, she was sick of thinking all of the time. This felt good and that was enough for her, his hands so confidently taking hers.

He switched on the light, which surprised and, momentarily, intimidated her. He was going to see all of her – the barely-healed scars on her legs, the old self-inflicted cuts on her thighs.

She wasn’t used to sex happening with the lights on. It had always been that awkward moment of two teenagers, made shy by the idea of someone else seeing them naked for one of the first times. They could only relax in the safety of the shadows, that way they didn’t have to worry of pulling an unexpected and ugly face.

This level of vulnerability was new to her. But it couldn’t be any more embarrassing than having a witness to her losing her temper at Christian and shouting all of her baggage at him.

She let out a startled yelp, which turned into a giggle when Sawyer lifted her off the ground, effortlessly. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her heart in her throat as their noses bumped together.

She initiated the kiss, open-mouthed and yearning. She reached up, tangling her fingers in his sandy blonde hair. She tilted her head further, allowing his tongue greater access because she needed more.

It was a relief when he undid the clasp of her bra, removing the item. She pushed her torso flush against his, the feeling of his skin on hers was becoming as essential to her as oxygen.

The landing onto the bed was anything but graceful. It only served as a brief distraction from his lips. Without looking, she swept her arm across the covers, sending the handful of books and pens onto the ground. The birth chart she’d been mapping out was of absolutely no significance to her now.

She could feel something pressing into her and her impatience grew. Her hands went to the waistband of his jeans, pushing with trembling hands. Her leggings stretched and bunched, taking more effort to come off. She kicked her feet free of them and he grabbed her knee, holding it by his hip, their bodies fitting together perfectly.

“You’re so fuckin’ gorgeous.” He said, hovering over her. “You’re like a sexy gothie Barbie.”

She laughed, hyper-aware of his fingers tracing her stomach. “There is no gothie Barbie.”

“Pardon me, didn’t mean to make a mistake like that. Didn’t play with a whole bunch of dolls as a kid.”

She raised herself up to recapture his lips. “You can play with me as much as you like.”

He smiled, fingers dipping into her panties. She gasped when he touched upon her quivering hood. Then he explored lower and his grin widened. “Fuck, that’s wet.”

She nodded her head, intending to answer. Instead she made a wordless whine, a moan that came from deep in her chest. She shut her eyes and as she listened to his heavy breathing, she realised she couldn’t clearly remember the last time she’d had sex. It simply hadn’t been on her mind.

But now she couldn’t think of anything else.

“Do you have…?”

Her eyes snapped open. “Yeah, uh, yeah. In the draw…” She opened up the top draw of the bedside table. “Here, somewhere.”

The box of condoms didn’t immediately come to her hand, instead it was a hairbrush. She pushed this aside, then found the crinkling packets of painkillers. Next to reach her palm were the rough edges of different crystals.

“Um…” She rolled onto her side to get a better look into the crowded draw. “I know they’re in here.”

“And I believe you. Don’t rush on my account, plenty for me to entertain myself with. Like looking at that perfect li’l ass you’ve got there.”

She lifted out a couple of rocks of rose quartz, placing them atop the table. A bracelet made of spheres of black tourmaline was pulled out next. She added more to this pile in an effort to reach the bottom of the drawer.

“What kind of Satanic shit are you into that you gotta have needles by your bed?”

She hadn’t noticed the safety packages of the piercing needles at first. “Oh no, it’s nothing like that. I’m a body piercer so sometimes I practice, trying to get new ideas, on clay moulds…” She found a fake ear and tossed it his way. “Like this.”

“Right, of course. Everything makes complete sense now.” He said sarcastically.

She found an opened cardboard box and presented it to him with a triumphant smile. “Ta-da.”

“Fantastic, lay back baby.”

She returned her head to the pillow, smiling to herself as she looked at the window directly above her bedhead. The sky was still dark.

“Fuck, you’re sexy.”

She laughed in disbelief, looking at him. “I’m not even doing anything.”

“Exactly.” His voice was nothing more than a seductive whisper. “You’re just laying there, waiting for me to have my fuckin’ filthy way with you.”

She smiled, pushing his hair back off his brow. “Filthy, huh?”

“Yeah.” He pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. “Think you can handle it?”

“I’m ready to find out.” She said, unable to keep her bottom lip from trembling.

He kissed her with just as much intensity as earlier, he eased her thighs apart. Her back arched up into him when she felt his tip brush against her hood. It was difficult to keep herself from crying out as he purposefully teased her entrance.

She broke away, sighing heavily. “Oh…”

He lowered himself closer, making her think he was about to slide in. Then he didn’t. “You okay?”

“Please.” She pressed her lips into his as hard as she could.

“Please what, babydoll?”

She moaned to herself, the teasing was close to torturous. She felt like she was holding onto a firework that was already fizzling and all she wanted was to let it go, to let it fill the sky. Her need for release became entirely unbearable when he secured his lips around her nipple. “Please just fuck me.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely…”

He grabbed her leg by the back of her knee and brought this up to her side. Fully exposed to him, she held her breath, her teeth grit.

With a husky groan, he easily slid between her waiting walls. His body crashed into hers and she was filled in a way she had never experienced before.

“Baby, you are tight, so fucking tight.”

She had to guess from his tone if this was a good thing or not. All that she cared about was that he was still inside of her.

She kissed him deeply as he settled on top of her. She could feel herself becoming overwhelmed by him, forgetting of a world beyond this bed.

She felt they were breathing in time with one another, a smoothness to the way his mouth worked with hers. This was shattered when he pinched her nipple and she cried out, her head lolling back.

He gripped her hip with his strong hand and ground into her harder than before. He was somehow deeper and her toes curled.

She clung to him, rolling her hips up to meet his thrusts. They were in sync with one another, the increasing speed making her dizzy. She was determined to hold on, not wanting the perfect sensations to end.

Then he withdrew. In an instant, she bucked up into him when he pushed down, bumping her hood as he shoved back into her. He repeated this motion, her slick entrance ready to receive him each time.

She couldn’t keep up with his kisses, instead letting her mouth gape open as she greedily sucked in air. “Oh God…”

The momentum between them was building, causing a fire to swell within her stomach. She thought it wouldn’t be much longer until it completely took her over. She couldn’t stop the moans from spilling out of her mouth, laboured breathing punctuated by melodious groans.

“Don’t be shy.” He said, his hot breath coating her neck. “I want your neighbours to know how good you’re gettin’ it.”

For a moment she reflected that the window was shut, they all were.

This was immediately driven out of her head when a small tremor rocketed through her body. Involuntarily she twitched forward, bowing her head into his chest. Curling up, she watched the beads of sweat on his taut skin.

“Yes.” She felt ready to burst. With each thrust he was hitting the exact right spot, an unrelenting rhythm on her core. She linked a leg around his waist, needing him to push her to that edge. “Oh God, yes.”

Another, more powerful, tremor rocked her body and she peeled back, ready to go entirely limp. Her legs shook and the way that she bucked into him had become erratic, jarring and desperate.

All conscious thoughts were gone from her mind and the sounds that left her mouth weren’t chosen. She was nothing beyond a series of nerves, commanded by him.

“Ah.” The new peak felt like a whip to her centre, quick but all encompassing. “Oh God.”

He delivered another determined thrust, finding the deepest part of her, a receptor she hadn’t been able to explore. This was the key to undoing her and she was finally drowned in the fire.

“Yes, oh yes, ye…”

She collapsed onto the bed, eyes shut, exhausted from the most intense orgasm of her life. There wasn’t any questioning it. Other guys would leave her wondering, unsure of whether that was it. She would always think there should be something more, another level beyond the beginning of the pleasant tingling. No lingering question marks, this was all wrapped up with an exclamation point.

But he hadn’t reached the same spectacular conclusion, he was still chasing his release. He had secured a hand around her throat, half-sitting up to get a better vantage point, his movements getting smoother.

She quivered, unable to catch her breath. She liked it, liked being used by him. She watched, fascinated by how his powerful body responded to her own. Her back arched, more moans escaping her as he lurched forward. He froze for a moment, then with a heavy exhale he leaned back, done with her.

As soon as he had moved aside, lying on the bed next to her, she threw an arm over her eyes, needing to block out the overhead light. Unnoticed minutes ticked by as they both noisily tried to catch their breath.

“I’m gonna have a smoke.”

She gestured vaguely in what she assumed was the right direction. “Cool, the veranda is out… there… off the uh, lounge room.”

“What the Hell is a gurandah?”

“A porch, whatever.” She rolled onto her side; her body too heavy to move any further. “Get outta here, dumb Yank.”

She heard him leave the room, heard the glass door slide open. But she wasn’t aware of anything else. She laid still, scanning her body as all of her shivers slowly faded away.

Without any thoughts, she drifted into a deep sleep, half a smile still on her face.

*

“Uh, hi.” Claire couldn’t think of anything else to say when she woke up. She lifted herself off the pillow and wiped at her mouth, looking at the figure occupying the other half of her mattress.

“Hey yourself gothie Barbie.” Sawyer appeared perfectly comfortable lying on his stomach, wearing an easy smile as he looked at her. “What’s that face for, do I got toxic mornin’ breath or somethin’?”

She scratched under her cast briefly. “No, it’s nothing. I guess I just didn’t, um, expect you to be here.”

“What’d you think this was, some sort of wham, bam, thank you ma’am set up?”

“I guess.”

“If that’s all you wanted, then you shouldn’t ‘ve offered to clean my clothes.”

She sat up, alerted. “Shit, I did say I was gonna do that. But I just passed out and totally forgot. Sorry, I’ll chuck those in the wash right now.”

She grabbed the closest shirt and immediately shimmied into it. Things looked different in the morning light and she wondered what had caused her to make such an impulsive decision. She had never had a one-night-stand before, but something had compelled her.

The vulnerability that had been so exciting last night, now created a dynamic she was yet to settle into. A pair of underwear felt necessary as she assessed the situation of this stranger in her home. He was a mystery to her, yet he knew things about her family that she hadn’t divulged to anyone but her best friend. She questioned what he would want from her.

“Can I use your shower?” He asked.

“Yeah, of course. It’s just through the second door off the hall. I’ll get you a towel.”

“Thanks.”

He didn’t show any false modesty, not picking up anything to cover himself as he left the room. She tried to ignore the warmth filling her cheeks and collected his jeans from the ground.

She felt even more disoriented than usual. She had no idea what time it was. She felt lost in time, needing to regain her bearings. It was the longest, most restorative sleep she had experienced in months. It was the closest she had been to forgetting about all of her issues, temporarily free and relaxed.

“Hey Claire.”

She had just shut the lid of the washing machine, turning and returning to the hallway. “Yeah, what’s up?”

He stood outside the shower-bath combination. “What’s wrong with your shower?”

“Wrong?” She echoed, looking into where the shower curtain had been pushed open. “There’s nothing wrong with it. I guess I haven’t cleaned it in a few weeks, but, like, do you want me to apologise for that, your majesty?”

“You ain’t got a hot water faucet. What, did you think I was gonna take a cold shower, first thing in the morning? What kind of psychotic do you take me for?”

“Oh, right.” She stepped a leg into the bath and reached for the pliers resting on the lip of the tub. “The tap kept coming off, but it still works.” She attached the prongs to the exposed mechanism jutting out of the wall. “You just gotta use this and it works fine.” She gave it a slight twist, allowing a trickle to drip free. “See.”

He continued to observe her with a furrowed brow. “Why’re you livin’ like this?”

“What? It works, get in there.”

“Why haven’t you gotten someone to fix this? You pay rent, right? Get your landlord to fix it.”

“Oh, she knows, she just doesn’t care, about this or about the broken fly-screen in the spare room.”

“Huh, sounds like a shitty landlord.”

“Welcome to Sydney baby, that’s the norm.” She said with a shrug before leaving the room.

She turned the washing machine on and checked the time on the wall clock. Half past eleven, she wouldn’t be able to make it to the hospital before the rest period. She hadn’t decided on whether or not she would visit her mum. It was usually a given to go see her mum whenever she had a free day.

But her schedule had been disrupted and she didn’t feel any rush to get back on track.

She took a couple of pieces of toast over to sit beside the rat cage. She had some mouthfuls before breaking off small pieces, which she poked through the metal bars. She smiled as she watched Leeloo sprint for a hiding spot. Sandy, meanwhile, was happy to sit within Claire’s line of sight, perking up the instant food was extended to her.

“Y’know I could fix that for you.” He said, wrapping a towel around his waist as he came into the room.

“Thanks, but I don’t have any tools. Those pliers? I’m _borrowing_ them from a co-worker, a co-worker who quit about three months ago.”

“Okay, then I’ll get some tools.”

“Okay.” She said with a smile. “I put your stuff on the counter. And, I’m just about to put your clothes in the dryer.”

“A-ha, my smokes. Thanks sweetness.”

When she returned to the apartment, he was out on the balcony, a cigarette between his lips. He was leaning against the dirty railing, basking in the sunshine. Her heart fluttered a little and she took a pause, standing by the door. She was relieved to see he hadn’t discarded the towel; his toned torso was distracting enough. She hadn’t seen anyone like him in real life before. The boys she had dated were typically skinny enough to see ribs, their appearance far from a priority. In comparison, he was a feast for her eyes.

“Your clothes will be done in about thirty minutes.”

“Great, I got time.”

She joined him on the veranda, collecting her own pack of cigarettes as she went. She sat down on the up-ended milk crate, in the shade. “Can I ask you a question?”

He took a drag from his cigarette, never dropping her gaze. “Anything you want babydoll.”

“What’s your sign?”

He paused. “My sign?”

“Your star sign.”

“Right, uh…” He pondered the answer as he inhaled more smoke. “I wanna say Aquarius, is that one?”

She grimaced theatrically. “Yeah, but I’m a Scorpio, our signs are _not_ compatible.”

“Oh really? Then what do you call what we did last night? ‘cause I would call that pretty damn compatible.”

She cleared her throat. “I can do your birth chart for you.”

“And what’s that gonna tell me, my life’s purpose or somethin’?” He asked.

“No, that’s numerology, I’m talkin’ about astrology.”

“Of course, how foolish of me to get those two mixed up.” He said sarcastically. “It’s probably ‘cause I got kicked out of college. Yeah, they made me leave after I failed my tea leaves reading class.”

A knock at the door raised her to her feet, placing the remainder of her cigarette in an ashtray. “Wow, handsome and hysterical, you are just the whole package, huh?”

“You don’t even know the half of it.” He said as she stepped back into the apartment.

She prepared herself to open the door to her neighbour, Mr Samuels. Too many times he had taken issues with the items she put into the communal dryers, bringing his complaints directly to her. He was quick to tell her exactly what she was doing wrong, none of his critiques based even remotely in reality.

She didn’t bother to unlatch the security chain, she planned for this confrontation to be as short as possible. She turned the knob and eased the door open those two inches.

“Oh, it’s you.” She said, immediately fatigued by the sight of Christian outside her home. “You said you were gonna call, which I thought was a great idea because I could just not answer it.”

He looked more intimidating this morning, more like himself. He was composed and well-presented in business attire. He didn’t sway on his feet, now he looked like a no-nonsense doctor who would keep talking until she agreed with his point of view.

He also looked rich, which potentially incensed her the most. She had never felt rich, not while her mum shopped exclusively at op shops and worked odd, often extended at short notice, hours at the nursing home. All of their appliances had been second-hand and Claire had been the only girl in her year to make her own formal dress.

“I wanted to tell you face to face how sorry I am for last night.” He said and she twisted her uninjured hand into a fist around the doorknob as she listened. “The state that I was in, that wasn’t fair for you to see me like that…”

The word _fair_ sat on her tongue, tasting like a poison she wanted to spit out.

“But this is a very difficult situation for me. I’ve wanted to be in your life again for years and for it to happen like this, under these circumstances, with your mom in this condition…” He paused and in the silence her mind screamed every swear she knew at him. “It’s breaking me because Carole means a lot to me.”

“Bullshit.” Her tongue would no longer be held. “If she was anything more than a fling to you, why didn’t you show up for her, for me? You don’t know shit about her, not enough for her to _mean a lot_ to you.” She raised both hands, mocking him by drawing quotation marks in the air.

“Claire, believe it or not, I didn’t come here to argue with you. I’m going to the hospital and I want you to come with me.” He said.

“Keep dreaming.”

She flinched at the feeling of Sawyer’s hand on the small of her back. She looked at him, ready to feel embarrassed. This wasn’t an interaction she would want an audience for. But the look on his face comforted her. Without saying a word, she could tell he was in her corner and upon realising that, she pushed her shoulders back a little.

“I was hoping we could all sit down, you, me, your Aunt Lindsay and your mom’s doctor and we could have a rational, realistic talk about your options.”

“What options?”

“You can’t let your guilt cloud your decisions, to dictate that your mom be kept alive in this way because you blame yourself. The way that she is right now, that isn’t really living and you know she wouldn’t want this, to weigh you down like this. It isn’t healthy for you and it isn’t healthy for her, not in the long run.”

She could hear her heartbeat pounding in her ears. “You, what?” She cleared her throat. “You wanna run that by me a second time, cunt?”

On either side of the door, both Americans hissed in response to hearing her casual use of the swear. But she didn’t care, she had snapped and there was no reigning it in now. Christian’s ability to infuriate her seemingly knew no bounds.

“Put your opinion of me as your dad aside for a moment and listen to me as someone who has studied and worked in medicine for a very long time, longer than you’ve been alive kiddo.” He said and the anger was beginning to make her feel sick. “All I have is my educated opinion and that is that your emotions are keeping you from doing what’s best for your mom.”

“And what’s best for her is letting her die?” She asked as a clear image appeared in her head. It was like an astral projection, her own hand sliding the chain out of its track. Then, once the door was open, she would slap his face with all of the power she possessed. “You’re a doctor, you should be doing your best to keep people alive, not trying to kill them.” Her throat seemed to click shut as unhelpful emotions rose, but she pushed on. “I am not going to murder my mother, you fucking monster.”

“Why don’t you tap out, go finish your cigarette.” Sawyer’s voice was soft, but not enough to placate her.

“What? No, I’m not ready to tap out, okay? So how about you just let me handle this?”

“Who are you talking to?” Christian asked.

“It doesn’t matter, you-…”

Without any warning, Sawyer shoved her out of the way. She lost her footing, stumbling a few steps as he stood in front of Christian.

“Hey, Christian, was it? I bet you weren’t expecting to see me again so soon, huh?”

“Parliament Blue, what are you doing here? Are you nak-…? Did you spend the night?”

Claire thought she could sneak under Sawyer’s arm, but for the moment she just peaked around him. “Hey you arsehole, there is a long list of things in my life that are none of your business. And right at the top of that, is who I have in my home and why.”

“Claire…” Sawyer’s voice was warning.

“This is my home, that I pay for with my own money. Nothing to do with you, okay? Mine.”

“Chill out.” He said.

“I was really hoping to speak to Claire, so if you could-…”

“You know that’s funny, ‘cause she was really hopin’ to never see you again. It seems nobody’s gettin’ what they want today, huh?”

“Claire, we need to talk. I wouldn’t be here if this wasn’t very serious and you know that-…”

“Listen Doc, get a clue, she doesn’t want to talk to you. How many names does the little lady have to call you before you give up and fly back to the States?”

“I am going home.” Christian said and her heart leapt. “My son, Jack, your brother, is getting married…”

She rolled her eyes, but Sawyer had a snarky response lined up. “Well gee, where’s he registered?”

“If I’m not on a plane by tomorrow, I run the risk of missing the entire ceremony. My wife, she’d surely divorce me and kick me out of the house if I only make it to the reception.”

“He might miss the weddin’, that is so sad. Barbie, isn’t that just the most heart-breaking story you’ve ever heard?”

“I’m shattered.”

Christian was looking past Sawyer, still trying to appeal to her. “I can fly back after the wedding. I can help you out, we can make all of the arrangements together. You don’t have to do this alone.”

“Being alone has suited me my whole life, so why don’t you just go back to your real family? You know what Sawyer, just close the door, I’m sick of looking at this bastard.”

She turned away; she didn’t have any set location in mind as she started to walk. There were tears stinging at her eyes and she needed to find somewhere to hide.

“Safe travels Doc.”

She was relieved when she heard the door shut, without any following knocks from Christian.

She had walked straight down the hall, ending up in the spare room and staring directly out of the window. She clasped her hands to her chest, on the verge of falling apart.

She wanted to cry. As her family was crumbling away, his was getting ready for one of life’s biggest celebrations. She had come to peace with the fact that there wouldn’t ever be anyone to walk her down the aisle.

But this timing of her so-called brother’s wedding felt like the cruellest irony. She questioned how she had gotten to be so unlucky. All that she had for company were her rats and the beeping of her mum’s heart rate monitor.

On the other side of the coin was the perfect family. A loving mother, a successful doctor for a father and a happy son, getting a fairy-tale wedding. It was a life she would never know.

“You okay cutie?”

She tilted her head back, furiously blinking away the tears before turning to Sawyer. “I’m great, he’s finally leaving. He’s been bugging me for about a month, I thought I was gonna have to get an AVO to get him to leave me the fuck alone. Or a hitman.”

“Hitman?”

“I’m gonna go get your clothes, they’re probably dry by now.”

Claire didn’t see anyone else on her walk to the dark laundry room. It was a bitter victory. Now Christian was gone and she would pull herself back together, waiting for the pain to fade away.

Given enough time she would forget his words and he would be just another ghost, another piece of baggage to drag around with her.

When she returned to the apartment Sawyer still wasn’t making any moves to leave. He was back on the veranda, relaxing with the ease of a resident, not a brief visitor.

“Here’s your stuff.” She said, passing the items of clothing over. “You can go, you know, I won’t get upset or anything. I wouldn’t even blame you. All of this bullshit, I wish I could leave.”

He considered her with a critical gaze as he took the clothes. “Do you want me to go?”

“I don’t want you to not go out of pity, or whatever.”

“Okay, so then I’ll stay ‘cause I wanna nail you again or ‘cause I desperately need to know more about my birth craft and astronomy.”

“Astrology.” She corrected, folding her arms over her chest as she tried to figure him out. “And it’s a birth chart.”

“See, I know so little.” He said, buttoning up his jeans. “You’ve got so much to teach me.”

“I don’t get it, do you, I dunno, like me or something?”

“Do you want me to like you?” Before she could answer he made a face and waved her away. “Ah, screw this junior high crap. I ain’t been in Australia long, you met me the day after I flew in. Or was it two days after? Time difference, you know. I came here, not for a holiday. In fact, I was certain I was gonna have a terrible time.

“But then there’s you…”

She awkwardly shifted her weight from one foot to the other, she didn’t know what to make of this unexpected answer. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to go.

“You’re so feisty and sexy and tough and you’re, you’re not like any other girl I’ve been with. You interest me, is that so bad?”

She smiled, her cheeks warm. “No, that’s not so bad.”

He stood in front of her, hands caressing her arms. “So, what do you wanna do now?”

She put her hand on his cheek and drew him in for a kiss, the kind that made her forget about everything else. With a sigh he sunk into it, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her close.

“I wanna do your birth chart."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you've heard something different today, please know that BLACK LIVES MATTER


	3. You're Like a Bloody Cyclone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To add some clarity for Claire's initial reaction to the bullets for any readers not from Australia: guns are not commonplace here and it rocks. There was a massacre in 1996 and the Prime Minister at the time moved in fantastic laws surrounding gun ownership. To own a gun, you must have a gun owner's license, which you can't get without legitimate reasoning for having a gun. Even with that license, there is a limit to how many guns you can own. It just isn't a part of life here and for my portrayal of Claire, she has never seen a gun before in real life.

“So how long are you in Australia?”

Claire’s curiosity had gotten the better of her. It would have been easy to stay in this moment and just fall asleep. She could have turned her face into Sawyer’s neck, breathed in the distinct smell of his post-coital sweat and slept soundly.

But questions lingered. Specifically, when she was riding the bus home from work. Her mind would wander and she considered how little she knew of the man who was sharing her bed for the third time.

“As long as I want babydoll.” He said, tracing patterns on her bare back.

“Really? You don’t have a job or anything to go back to?” She asked.

He groaned, wiping a hand over his face. “Is this the part where you get your goddamn panties in a twist ‘cause my future prospects aren’t good enough for you and my lack of direction is a gigantic turn-off?”

“Sawyer, I’m nineteen, what do I know about future prospects?”

“Right.”

She lifted her feet, wiggling her toes in the air as she tried to pick her words carefully. “I just, I dunno, whatever, I wanna know more about you. What’s your deal? If you don’t have a job, how are you paying for your hotel room? I mean, I know it’s just a shitty Blacktown hotel, but…”

“You really wanna know?” He asked.

“Yeah, I do.”

He rolled on to his side. “Okay, I’m gonna trust you with this, this isn’t something I would tell just anyone. So, don’t make me regret this.”

“You wanna pinky swear on it?” She asked, waggling the single digit at him.

He made to bite at the finger and she immediately tucked it away. “I’m being serious.”

“Okay.”

“Okay? It’s not my money. I put down a fake name and got a credit card, that’s how I pay for things and that’s the kind of man I am sweetheart, a dishonest one.”

“You mean, like fraud?” She said after a pause.

“Exactly like fraud.”

“Okay, cool.” She said, laying her head back down on the pillow.

“Cool?” He repeated.

“Yeah, whatever, it’s not like you’re hurting anyone.” She said and twirled a strand of hair around her finger. “I’m kinda anti-capitalism anyway.”

He laughed dryly. “Of course, gothie Barbie hates anything too mainstream.”

“Yup.”

With a smile, he kissed her, bringing their bodies together, in that perfect way they fit together. “So, you really don’t care?”

“Really, really.” She said, caressing his bottom lip with her thumb. “If anything, I’m interested. Is it difficult, like to pull the lie off?”

He entwined his fingers with hers. “It’s all in the confidence baby. All I gotta do is stay relaxed and don’t act like there’s questions to answer. If I don’t reach for an ID, nobody needs to see it. Half the time, they don’t even check the signature.”

“And you never get nervous?” She asked.

“Not anymore.” He said. “You’re not freaked out, you’re not gonna go cryin’ to your girlfriends about how I’m a shady character and not what you expected?”

“Give me a break, I’m not that precious.”

He kissed her a few more times. “Thank God I don’t have to worry about breakin’ your heart when you discover I’m no Prince Charming or boyfriend material.”

“I don’t need you to be boyfriend material.” She said. “You’re here and you’re exciting, that’s enough for me.”

“Oh, it’s exciting, is it? Even though I’m an incompatible Aquaria.”

With a dramatic eyeroll, she turned over, putting her back to him. “It’s Aquarius. You can sleep on the couch tonight.”

He did the exact opposite, snaking his arms around her, pulling her closer. He kissed her shoulder, the way his stubble tickled her skin made her eyes flutter shut.

Then he was having her, again.

*

The buzzing of the small, circular saw subsided and a pair of rounded-tip scissors were picked up. Claire watched, feeling disconnected from what the doctor was doing.

She couldn’t quite believe that her cast was coming off. The past six weeks had felt supernaturally long and part of her had almost forgotten that she would have a life beyond the stiff plaster. In the fog of a panic attack, she had thought she would be dead by the time her wrist was healed, if things kept going downhill so rapidly.

The grubby plaster was taken away and she could see her thin wrist again. The fabric bandages that had been underneath all along were discoloured terribly.

The doctor cut these and her wrist was revealed. Any bruising was gone and the bloody grazes on her knuckles had long since healed. What had caused her so much pain was now behind her and her arm looked normal.

“I bet that’s a relief.” The doctor said. It wasn’t the same professional who had wrapped her arm, but she had seen this doctor before. Dr Martin, she had adjusted Claire’s pain pills. Martin wasn’t one of the doctors who was taking care of Claire’s mum, but she knew about it, knew Claire’s sad story.

“Yeah.” Claire wiggled her fingers, watching with interest. “I can’t wait to have a shower without a stupid plastic bag over my arm. My friends keep hanging shit on me about it.”

“Don’t overdo it though. I know it’s exciting but your wrist won’t be fully healed for another six weeks so you’ll have to stay patient. If it starts to swell then you get your butt directly to your GP, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Were you gonna go see your mum while you’re here?” Martin asked and Claire nodded. “Do you need a hand getting to the ICU?”

“No, that’s okay. Thanks Dr Martin.”

“You take care.”

Claire could get to the correct ward without pausing. Nurse Aaron was seated behind the desk at the nurses’ station and he raised his fingers in a little wave of recognition.

None of the other professionals stopped to question her. Even without any bandages on her body, she still looked the part.

The door of room 815 stood open and she stepped inside. There was only one bed in the room. The voice of David Attenborough on the TV created a calm atmosphere, but her heart sank as she crossed over to the bed.

Carole looked the most relaxed Claire had ever seen her. One of the many running arguments they’d had was how Carole couldn’t get a moment of peace with Claire around. She hadn’t been able to fall asleep while Claire had music playing, which Carole would criticize as too aggressive, the volume too loud. Claire spent hours talking on the phone, laughing loud enough for Carole to hear her on the other side of the apartment.

If Claire wanted to, she could imagine her mum was sleeping. She grabbed the vinyl chair from against the wall and pulled it across, sitting alongside the bed. She reached up and touched Carole’s tangle-free hair.

“Hey Mum.” Claire said, unable to keep her eyes from wandering across all of the wires and tubes.

She felt a lump in her throat. She looked fine, her body functioning the same as before. She was battered but not broken and her life could continue normally.

It wasn’t fair, her mum still frozen in all of this trauma.

“He’s gone now.” She said, picking up one of Carole’s limp hands. “He went back to America, finally and we don’t have to worry about him ever again. It’s just me and you again. Well and Aunt Lindsay, you know how overbearing she is.”

Some days she could imagine Carole’s side of the conversation. But the energy was off in the room today.

“He says you might not wake up.” Claire had to pause to clear her throat. “But he doesn’t know you, not like I do. He doesn’t know anything. He doesn’t know how tough you are, how smart you are. He doesn’t know you.”

When it became too difficult to look at Carole’s motionless face, she instead turned to look at the television. She watched the footage of regal birds flying across the sky and tried to recall if she’d seen this particular program before.

She reached into the pillowcase and pulled out the crystal she had deposited there during her last visit. She wasn’t sure what the exact rules of the hospital were. But Aaron had listened to her explanation of why she wanted to leave the gemstones with her mum and he made sure they safely stayed there.

She curled the small piece of emerald into the palm of her hand. This was one positive to Carole’s current state, for once she couldn’t question the crystals and Claire’s belief in their healing capabilities.

From her handbag, she pulled out a tiger eye crystal. It had been cleansed during the last full moon and she slid it into the pillow cover, nudging it to rest behind her mum’s ear.

The stone was meant to boost strength and bring good luck, amongst other positive attributes. Whether or not this could be proven as correct, she still felt better for leaving the token with Carole.

It helped with the separation.

She laid her head down and shut her eyes. Then she did what she did every visit and pictured her mum waking up. She imagined how it would feel and wanted to see their feet as they walked out of the hospital together.

She reached the point where she had day-dreamt for so long that her heart had started to ache. She sat up and wiped her face. Before she left the room, she planted a kiss on Carole’s cheek. All she could do was hope that, on some level, her mum felt the kiss.

*

Claire put a bookmark in place before getting up. She didn’t open the door without checking through the peephole first. She hadn’t been expecting anyone, but she smiled as she unlatched the locks.

She didn’t know what she and Sawyer were, they were being very modern and refusing to label it. She got the feeling that he wasn’t planning on being in town for long. He was here for now and she wasn’t asking for more.

What she did know was that she felt warm at the sight of him and her moods were better while he was around.

“Hey babydoll, you need someone to fix your shower?”

She looked down to where he was holding a small fabric toolbox, which was clearly newly bought. Consistency, it was new, something she hadn’t been expecting.

She pushed the door fully open, providing him with access to the apartment. She put both hands on his face, pulling him in for a kiss. She proceeded to enthusiastically run her right hand all over his chest. “Hey, it’s so good to see you.” He wasn’t noticing that her cast was gone. She put her healed hand on his face again.

“Did you smoke somethin’ out of…?” He trailed off, looking as she entwined her fingers with his. He paused to consider her left hand before reacting. “Hey, look at you.”

“Yeah, I got my cast off, now you can’t make fun of me and call me a cripple anymore.”

“Guess I’ll have to think of something else then. C’mon, you can help me with the shower then.”

“Oh no, no, actually I can’t. You know, the doctor said that my wrist won’t be fully healed for another six weeks, so I can’t be doing too much.” She said. “It’s extra of a downer for you ‘cause this is my dominant hand, so no handies for you.”

“You’re adorable.” He said sarcastically as he turned away to go down the hallway.

She sat on the vanity and watched him work. She wasn’t sure if the repairing was interesting or if she were just enjoying his company. She wasn’t used to having someone take care of her. It was strange to not have her fists constantly clenched.

“Deep well socket.” He said interrupting the story she had been telling about piercing a nose.

“You, what?”

“It’s an attachment I need for the wrench, it must’ve fallen into my car. Go, get it for me, yeah?” He had already pulled his keys out, extending the ring to her.

“Okay, but when I get back you have to listen to my story for real.” She said, getting up.

“Hey, I was definitely listenin’.” He said. “I wouldn’t ‘ve asked if I didn’t care, your stories are great. You were tellin’ me about piercin’ that tongue.”

She looked at him with her eyes narrowed. But she couldn’t even play at being annoyed, not once she saw the cheeky smile on his face. She looked at those dimples and any retorts immediately flew out of her mind.

“How am I gonna know what to grab, what’s it look like?”

“It’s in the packaging still, so just look for the label.” He said.

Stepping outside, it was a clear, cool night. She walked past the other familiar cars, stopping at the one bearing a large sticker for a local rental company.

As she unlocked the car, she briefly wondered what name this car had been rented under.

The dome light quickly led her to the plastic-wrapped tool, it was one of the only items on the ground of the backseat. There were a couple of crumpled up receipts and a jacket.

But other than that, it was the tidiest car she had ever been inside of. It was the car of someone with no attachments.

Kneeling on the seat, she reached down, her fingers bumping against something as she grabbed the wrench accessory. She furrowed her brow and reached again. It was a small cardboard box and it rattled.

She didn’t recognise the brand name, but when she read the word _ammunition_ she froze.

She just stared at the box, her mind racing, but to nowhere useful. She didn’t understand why these were here, why did he need bullets? She glanced around the interior of the car, wondering if the gun was in here as well.

She could have put the box down; he didn’t need to know that she had seen it.

But she didn’t, she couldn’t put it down or put it out of her mind. She held it close to her body as she walked back to the apartment, ready to tuck it into the waistband of her pyjamas at the slightest hint of a neighbour approaching.

When she returned to the apartment, he was in the kitchen. He was casually eating a cookie as he stood in front of the opened fridge door.

“Got it.” She held up the sockets for him to see, her hand steady.

“Thanks baby. Where are the beers in this house?”

“Oh, I don’t really drink beer.” She said. “So, this was all you needed from the car? Or did you need these to fix my tap?”

She held the box of bullets up and any hints of a smile immediately left his face. It was like a dark cloud had passed over him and she didn’t recognise him. She watched him, aware that in a blissful parallel universe she hadn’t seen the bullets.

She was scared of what the bullets meant but she wasn’t scared of him. She knew he wasn’t going to hurt her because that wasn’t the man she knew. The man she knew would share his last cigarette with her. He liked David Bowie more than he was willing to admit. He had nightmares while he laid next to her and he was a fussy eater.

“I was hopin’ me and you would get more time together, there’s still a bunch of stuff I was lookin’ forward to doing to you. But if this is the way things gotta go…” He sighed and held out an empty hand. “Just give me the bullets and I’ll leave. I’ll forget your address and you can quit worryin’ about what kind of business I’m wrapped up in. The pliers are still in your shower, but I really think you should give your landlord another call about that.”

She curled her fingers protectively around the box, lowering it to her side. “What are they for?”

“A-…”

“If you’re gonna stand there and give me some smart-arse answer about how bullets go in a gun, I swear to God…”

“Okay, okay. Shit, when did you get so good at reading me?”

“I’m waiting.”

He watched her as if waiting for her to crack, waiting for her to resolve to fail. “You don’t wanna know.”

“Try me.” She sank down into the nearby couch. “And don’t bore me with a lie. I get that you don’t wanna do the whole girlfriend-boyfriend thing, maybe you don’t think I deserve that, which is fine, whatever, I don’t need that. But for how much of my life that you know about, for how many nights you’ve spent in my home and for all of my food that you’ve eaten – I think that I deserve the truth.”

He approached her slowly, that strange darkness still over him. She stared him down, her determination keeping her from blinking. She wasn’t going to back away, not when this seemed so important.

“You’re not gonna like it, in fact this is the part where you’re gonna start hating me.” He said and she tucked her legs up beneath herself. “You remember when I told you that I hadn’t planned on havin’ a good time while I was here?”

“Yeah, you said it wasn’t a holiday.”

“Right and it’s not. I have some, I guess you could call it, unfinished business with a guy who moved here from the States.”

“Unfinished business, that requires a gun?”

He momentarily clenched his jaw. “Okay, I’ll make it less vague: revenge.”

“So, this guy, he wronged you and the only way you can set things right, is by killing him?” She asked, the course to his reasoning still foggy.

“I’m not askin’ for you to understand.” He said, becoming more gruff than usual. “But that’s the boiled down version.”

“Right.” She cleared her throat. “You know you’re not a character in a Harrison Ford movie, don’t you?”

He sighed, seemingly disgruntled that he was still talking about it. But he didn’t stop. “Look, it is a long and sad story. But he’s had this comin’ for quite a time now, he’s a bad guy whose fucked up a lot of lives, especially mine and that of my family and I’m done waitin’ for karma to settle this score. I’ve spent pretty much all of my life living in the shadow of what he did. When he’s dead, it’ll finally all be over.”

She sucked at the inside of her cheek and looked away. “So, after you kill him, you’ll be happy?”

“That’s the plan gothie Barbie. Now, can I have my bullets back?”

He stood directly in front of her, holding out a hand. She couldn’t bring herself to look up at him yet. The box of ammunition was still in her hand, the deep well sockets resting on her knee.

She wasn’t sure how to act because she didn’t see the full picture. There were a lot of things he was leaving unsaid and she wanted to fill in the blanks. She assumed his parents were dead, perhaps before their time. Whether or not this was at the hands of this mystery man, she couldn’t figure out on her own.

But she wasn’t going to ask him. If she kept pressing for information he would retreat entirely. This would have to be enough.

She readjusted her hold on the box but picked up the wrench attachments and placed it in his hand.

“Well alright then.” He said. He started down the hall and it felt easier to breathe. “You gonna finish telling me that story about piercing the shaky kid’s nose?”

She left the ammunition on the couch and got up, following him. “Where was I up to? Had I told you that I needed to bring in backup?”

He had resumed his place in the shower, working at the mechanism, almost as if nothing had happened. “Backup? I thought you said he was some skinny little redhead.”

“He was, but I needed to get one of the artists in to hold his head still, otherwise the whole piercing could get fucked up.”

He asked for another story after that and she leant against the vanity, pleased that their easy banter had returned. He made fixing the shower look simple, not running into any other issues.

She had forgotten what her shower looked like without the broken fixture. She laughed when he twisted the knob and water instantly came out of the shower head.

“A life of luxury.” She said with a relieved smile.

“That should hold just fine.” He wasn’t turning the stream off, instead undoing the buttons of his flannel shirt.

“What are you doing?” She asked, unable to hide her surprise.

He started to add in the cold water. “I gotta test it out.”

“That makes literally no sense, it’s the same exact shower that it’s…” The point she had been trying to make lost its importance when his jeans hit the ground. She licked her lips, trying to focus. “Okay, you were just looking for an excuse to get naked.”

“That’s where you’re wrong babydoll.” He said, getting into the shower. “I was lookin’ for an excuse to get _you_ naked.”

She giggled, feeling the majority of her earlier tension melting away. Whatever had happened before, it was over. She could recognise him again, seeing all of the best parts of him.

It was selective, but the gun wasn’t in the apartment. She let it exist in another space, a space entirely independent of where she currently stood, pushing her pants down.

“Well, whaddya know? It worked.”

She discarded her shirt and stepped over the side of the tub, into the warm water. He moved his hands up her back as she pressed her body to his. She kissed him and it was effortless, letting her body melt into his.

The persistent pattering of the water had a way of dulling everything else out. It was only their bodies and his mouth. He twisted a hand in her hair, keeping her face close to his.

He moved her over to the wall, pressing her against the tiles. He lifted her arms up, overlapping her hands above her head. She whined as he secured her wrists together with one hand. She arched her back into him, only too happy to follow his lead on how to act.

He leant back and she blinked up at him as he caressed her cheek. “I’m real glad you didn’t ask me to go.” He trailed his fingers down her neck. “I woulda missed you bad.”

Her breathing hitched when he slid his fingers down her front, where her nipples were already perked up in anticipation. “Yeah, I didn’t really wanna see you go. When you’re around, I feel good.”

“Good?” He repeated, eyebrows raised. “I’m a little insulted here Claire.”

“You’re right.” She wanted to touch him but was also thrilled at being controlled. There was no explanation for it or why it made the insides of her thighs quiver. “That was understatement. A dumb one.”

“You wanna think of some other words?” He was teasing her, his fingers playing between her hot folds.

But she could feel how close his shaft was and she wanted the satisfaction it could provide her with. She moaned, pushing her hips forward. “Great. Amazing.” She lifted a foot off the ground to hook around his leg in an effort to keep him from moving any further away. “Spectacular.”

“Now we’re talkin’.” He said, resting his forehead against hers. She could see the fire burning in his eyes.

She let out a long moan as he entered her, any other worries disappearing as she marvelled at the perfect connection. She shut her eyes and momentarily let all of the sensations overwhelm her.

“You got any other choice words that you wanna share with me babydoll?” He breathed into her ear.

She smiled. “I’ll let you know when they come to me.”

“Good.”

“Good.” She said, lip trembling when he nipped at her neck playfully. “Good, good.”

Their hips moved together, each of them seeking to create the heavenly friction. Her hands were shaking wildly, but his hold remained steady.

“God, Claire.” Her knees felt weak at the sound of her name. “I woulda missed you and this tight, tight pussy of yours.”

He had to release her hands, needing his hand to steady himself against the wall. She immediately placed both hands on him, one on his rear to beckon him closer and deeper. She was silently begging him to go faster because she needed more.

The pace had grown too intense for them to even attempt making out, but they kept their foreheads pressed together. They were both struggling for breath, their panting was getting louder than the driving force of the water.

She thought she was getting close, then it immediately halted. She was taken out of the moment when he lurched off to the side. He slid to the side and she slid down. She stuck her legs out and managed to stop herself from instantly hitting the tub. She was slowed down, enough that she could control her landing. She lowered herself to the ground and looked across to where he had braced himself with both hands wrapped around the curtain rod.

“The water ran cold.” He said.

“Yeah, I guess we used up all the heat.” She cautiously pushed herself to her feet, turning off both faucets. “I wouldn’t hold onto that, it’s-…”

As if to demonstrate her point, there was a creak and the rod came off the walls. Without thinking, she wrapped her arms around his middle to keep him from falling over. When her feet started to slip, he dropped the rod and grabbed her. It was somehow enough to keep the two of them from falling over.

“I can fix that too.” He said.

“You’re like a bloody cyclone.”

“It’s just as well, shower sex doesn’t really work anyway.”

She stepped out of the tub and pushed her dripping hair away from her face. “Okay, so where does work for sex?”

He wrapped an arm around her middle and walked out of the room, her pushed to his side. “May I introduce you to…” In the hallway he stopped and tapped his knuckles against the wall. “…up against a wall sex?”

She smiled and wrapped her arms around his waist, their shared body heat keeping her from feeling the chill of the cool air touching her damp skin. She kissed him deeply, ready to pick up exactly where they’d abruptly left off.

She backed him up to the closest wall and he held her body tight to his. She raised one foot from the ground, placing this knee on the wall, exposing how greatly she wanted him.

He pushed into her and the impact made her gasp. Their hips rolled together, both of them seeking to find that rhythm that would set them free. She became grateful for his hold as, without that, she thought she might fall. As the pleasure rose to overtake everything else, her strength wanted to fall away.

He kissed a line down her neck, gliding over her collarbone. A shock ran through her body when he flicked his tongue over her nipple before placing his lips around it securely. The sensations that he drew from the hardened nub hit her on a deeper level, it reached into her stomach and radiated through the rest of her. It sent more heat to her cunt, her walls tightening around him as she moaned her approval.

Without any warning he was gone from her, almost entirely as he crouched down in front of her. The pleasant scratching of his beard against the skin of her belly was frustratingly too little.

The vast change in pace made her feel dizzy as she tried to ignore the intrusive return of reality. She drew in some deep breaths and considered she would have to open her eyes soon. But she didn’t want to regain her bearings, she clung to the euphoria.

Time seemed to slow down, her bottom lip trembling as she waited. He was running his hands up-and-down her legs, gentle and caring. His lips felt softer than usual as he explored her stomach, not biting or trying to give her any hickeys.

Her heart leapt into her throat the second his tongue found her hood. Everything had fallen into place and she could hardly believe how perfect this felt.

His lips closed around the tight bundle of nerves and he slid two fingers inside of her. Massaging her at these overly sensitive points had her seeing stars. She leant into the wall, needing it for support.

He was moving slowly and purposefully, drawing cries from her. The pleasure was like waves rising and breaking within her, getting more powerful with each passing moment.

Then the waves pulled her under and her knees weakened. Every single part of her body was filled with warmth, which began from the scorching heat of his mouth.

She exhaled heavily and momentarily lost herself in the feeling of floating.

When she opened her eyes, it was to find him smiling up at her. She lowered herself to the ground, alongside him.

She hadn’t realised he was moving her until her back reached the ground. She let out a giddy laugh when he climbed on top of her. She was spent from the previous orgasm, but she could feel that he was still seeking his release.

Already sensitive from the over-stimulation, the cry that she let out when he entered her was her loudest yet. Every move he made caused an overreaction from her.

He sat back on his knees and grabbed her hips, lifting her ass off of the carpet. He kept her legs in the air with a determined grip on her thighs.

“Ung… oh God.” She put her hands to her face, helplessly overwhelmed as he ground into her. “Ah, fuck…”

He had found the correct rhythm and, with this improved angle, he could move as quickly as he needed. She writhed on the ground, unable to keep herself quiet as he enthusiastically chased his orgasm.

“Fucking Hell, Claire.”

His voice was barely above a whisper, which was immediately drowned out by her delighted shout as she came for the second time. In a moment of blissful synchronization, he finished at almost the same moment.

She stayed on the carpet, fighting to catch her breath as the aftershocks radiated through her body. He laid down in the remaining space alongside her, gasping for air. Their panting was the only sound in the apartment.

“I… uh, fuck… I didn’t know I could do… that…”

“Do what?”

She mentally scolded herself for bringing it up, she was outing her lack of experience. She bit into her lip; certain she couldn’t blow this off.

“I’ve never, you know, more than once, not in one, um, sitting. No, that’s not the right word.” She huffed, frustrated, and not understanding why she was stumbling over her words. “You know what I mean?”

“Claire, are you tryin’ to tell me you’ve never come back to back like that before?”

She opened her eyes and looked at him. “Yeah.”

“Are you-…” He sat up slightly. “You’ve been fuckin’ the wrong guys.”

She laughed. “I guess I have.” She sat up. “But at least none of them trashed my house.”

He scoffed to himself as she stood up and began toward the bedroom. “It’s gonna be an easy fix and don’t act like you hate my company babydoll.”

In the bedroom she wrapped her robe around her body and secured her wet hair away from her face. She carried a second bathrobe with her as she returned to the hall, where he was yet to move.

“I found this the other day, I don’t know if it’ll fit you, but…” She extended it to him as he sat up. “I figured you could just chuck it on whenever you’re going out for a smoke at night, ‘cause it gets cold out there.”

“It’s fuzzy and pink.”

She went to grab it back. “You don’t have to wear it then.”

“No, no, I’m wearing, I’m wearing it right now.”

Her tendency for buying larger sized dressing gowns paid off and his shoulders fit. She liked for her hands to disappear under the cuffs and needed her knees to disappear. This translated to him having the cuffs just above his wrists with the bottom half covering his rear and the majority of his thighs.

“It doesn’t have to be a fashion show, but I just thought this would be an easier alternative to you always shimmying in and out of jeans.”

“Oh, now I get it. You just wanna get me naked without as much fussin’.”

She threw her hands up, feigning anguish. “My genius plan, found out so quickly.”

“Do you got any alternatives? Maybe something in silk, to give me less of a pretty princess look? Somethin’ more along the lines of Hugh Hefner.”

She rolled her eyes as she walked past him. “You know you could just say thanks, Hef.”

“You’re right.” He said, following her into the living room. “I shouldn’t deprive your neighbours of this sight.”

She had been dreading coming back into the room where she’d left the bullets because she knew she wouldn’t be able to ignore them. As soon as she looked at the box, all of those panicked thoughts swarmed back into her mind. It was as if the questions had never left.

“I don’t mean tonight or anything, but…” She trailed off, questioning if she should go on. But he was already looking her way. “You’re gonna tell me more, right? Like, eventually?”

“‘fraid I got nothin’ else to tell gothie Barbie. Believe it or not, I don’t buy Playboy for the articles.” He said, pack of cigarettes already in hand as he pushed the glass door open.

“Yeah-nah, I was more so talking about the gun.”

He stepped out onto the veranda with a sigh. “Right, that…”

“We don’t have to talk about it right now, but one day.” She said. “My curiosity knows no bounds.”

“Oh yeah?” He flicked his lighter to life and he bought it to the tip of his cigarette. “Is that all about being a Scorpion?”

She paused before stepping out. Instead she started to pull the door shut. “That is too funny.” When the door reached the end of its track, she clicked the lock shut.

He heard the click and responded by showing her both of his middle fingers. Keeping them up, he started to do a little jig from side-to-side, making her laugh.

She turned away and her eyes went straight to the ammunition. She clenched her jaw and forced herself to walk past. She went into the bathroom and gathered up his clothes, grabbing the tool bag as well.

She placed these belongings on the coffee table and put the ammunition with the other items. After a brief pause, she unzipped the bag and placed the box inside. She zipped it up, feeling a little better for not having to look at it anymore.

She unlocked the door and stepped outside, returning his smile. She lit up her cigarette and felt the need to bring up a different, more neutral topic. “Have you ever broken a shower before?”

“Not like that.”

“Yeah, me too.”

They shared stories of growing up in rental properties, the kind where maintenance didn’t happen regularly.

She was certain that finding things in common with him would make everything harder in the long run. But it was so effortless to talk and laugh with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BLACK LIVES MATTER and that shouldn't be controversial or political to say


End file.
